


Undertow

by windfallswest



Series: It Never Rains [4]
Category: Marvel, X-Men Evolution
Genre: M/M, Sex Education
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 16:52:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15053636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windfallswest/pseuds/windfallswest
Summary: "That's right: starting next week, you're all going to be taking Sex Ed."





	Undertow

Kurt felt strongly that when your best friend already knew you were a blue, furry, teleporting mutant circus-performer with a tail, coming out as gay shouldn't be difficult. He had a creeping suspicion that it would go very badly for him if he left her out of the loop, too.

Actually, Kitty made it easy for him.

"You've been acting weird lately," she told Kurt the next day when they were sitting in the wood-panelled library, doing their homework.

"Yes, about that." Kurt fiddled with his pencil. "There's something I have to tell you."

 

"YOU'RE DATING SCOTT?!"

And that pretty much took care of the secrecy. Kurt had only meant to tell Kitty before he and Scott told everyone else; Scott was going to be kind of pissed. He hated surprises.

The news couldn't have spread around the mansion faster if it had been telepathically broadcast. Scott gave him a series of reproachful looks through his shades, but he kept tight hold of Kurt's hand under the wave of curiosity that threatened to drag them under.

Jean made some effort to control the press of their fellow students. Even her unofficial authority did little to calm the uproar, though; Kurt thought her telekinesis might have been more useful.

"I feel like I'm back in the circus again," Kurt said out of the corner of his mouth.

"Hold on, I'll go get a whip and a chair," Scott muttered back.

Kurt choked out an unexpected laugh and had the sudden urge to kiss Scott—these rare flashes of humour ought to be encouraged—but he wasn't quite bold enough yet in front of this crowd. Instead, he squeezed Scott's hand and leaned affectionately into his side.

Despite the uproar Kurt and Scott's outing caused among the student body of the Institute, the adults made no move to interfere. Kurt kept expecting a summons to the Professor's office, but it didn't come.

Instead, Logan came into the common room (or, as Kurt had started calling it when his English was still a little uncertain, the commotion room) after dinner. Rogue was quick to mute the television. Silence fell as everyone looked back and forth between Kurt and Scott and Logan.

"No point beating around the bush. Frankly, I'm surprised nothing like this has happened before now; and now it has, we've had to decide how to deal with it." Logan paused to let them all stew in ominous silence. He continued grimly in his gravelly voice that made everything sound dire. "The Professor figures it'd be kind of pointless to try and enforce a curfew on kids who can teleport or fly or walk through walls. So he's taking a different approach."

The students exchanged apprehensive looks.

"That's right: starting next week, you're all going to be taking Sex Ed."

"Wh-who's teaching it?" Kitty alone dared to ask into the silence that followed this pronouncement.

Logan's expression did not change. "I am. They voted me least likely to blush and the most likely to cripple your teenaged libidos."

 

"You're not going to try and keep this a secret, are you?" Jean had asked Scott pointedly during their conversation last night.

Scott had shifted uncomfortably. "I guess not—not really. I'm just not very good at talking about this kind of thing. It's—private. What does it matter to everyone else, anyway?" he'd added a little belligerently, a little plaintively.

To be fair, Scott was used to a _lot_ of privacy. It was strange, thinking of having privacy from a telepath, but whatever the Professor actually picked up he was pretty good about not mentioning anything Scott hadn't actually told him. He'd been all of eight when that plane had taken his whole life down with it; and although he was thrilled to find Alex was alive and well, until last year he'd thought he was alone in the world.

He'd been lucky Professor Xavier had found him so soon after, he knew. A lot of the newer students held the Professor in awe, but he'd spent a lot of one-on-one time with Scott. It had been just them in the mansion for years; effectively blind, the Professor had taught Scott himself. He'd fallen behind during his recovery and further behind re-learning how to read.

Occasionally, they'd have visitors: Storm, who'd only moved in when Jean came to stay full time, Logan, and after a few years, Jean herself. She would come up on the weekends sometimes, or for almost a week at a time in the summer. Her parents hadn't wanted to send her away until she was older and her powers started growing harder and harder to control.

Only with the discovery of the quartz had Scott gone back to school. The Professor had been convinced he'd do a better job than Bayville school district under the circumstances. And Scott had to admit, it would have been awkward trying to explain his miraculously cured blindness.

But it had been a lonely way to grow up. He'd lost enough social skills that he figured it was a good thing the Professor _had_ insisted on verbal communication. Mostly, Scott liked the Institute much better full of life and crazy mutant teenagers, although he thought he could do with a little less crazy. He still wasn't entirely used to it, though; and it overwhelmed him sometimes. And, like now, he felt he was a little behind in understanding other people.

"Because you're the team leader," Jean had told him ruthlessly. "And you're family; you both are."

Put that way, Scott could see her point. "You're right. We're a team: we have to depend on each other. We can't be keeping secrets from one another."

Jean had sighed fondly, prompting Scott to glare at her. She'd shaken her head, as if to say, _well, that's why they made you team leader._

"We all have to hide enough as it is, especially Kurt. Do you really want to make him hide something else?"

Scott remembered that when Kurt 'ported out to the garage as soon as he got back; he must have been listening for the garage door. Kurt hesitated, but Scott leaned in and kissed him. It was still new and incredible, and he couldn't get enough.

"Hi."

"Hi." Scott kissed him again, more seriously. A hunger for something more than the leftover meatloaf he'd been thinking about stirred in him.

Kurt pulled away, face scrunching up nervously. "I think I may have outed us to the entire Institute."

Well, it hadn't been the way Scott planned it, but this was where they'd been headed all along, and Kurt had been very apologetic. The reaction was pretty much just noise. Rogue, Scott noticed, hung back, disappearing quietly for the rest of the night. He felt a twinge of guilt.

The Professor hadn't said anything except that he was happy for them, although Scott was absolutely certain that he knew he and Kurt were—well, weren't taking it slow. Logan's announcement only served to confirm his suspicions. Still, Scott was almost starting to believe that it was actually going to be okay. He reserved judgement until after the first lecture, though.

 

Logan started strong.

"First, we're going to go over some basic anatomy. Not that those costumes of yours leave much to the imagination. Here," the slides advanced and one of Logan's razor-sharp claws unsheathed itself to point at the, yeah, the completely naked figures on the screen. "Man, woman. Obviously. Although with some of the mutations we're seeing nowadays, there's an even bigger chance that things won't be that clear-cut than you get in the rest of the population. For example, Mystique can change her gender completely; good way to break a trail."

"Breasts—some of you will have more experience with 'em than others—" Hardly anyone even dared to snicker at that. "—nipples: good erogenous zone on either gender, though your mileage may vary. And then there are the big ones: penis, vagina. Go on, get your giggles out now. I'll wait."

Scott, watching him stab illustratively at the male figure's naked genitals with a sinisterly gleaming adamantium claw, did not feel at all like laughing. In fact, he felt his testicles trying to crawl up into his body cavity and wondered if Kurt would be okay with just maybe holding hands on the couch for the rest of eternity.

They were all a little wild-eyed when Logan let them go.

"And I thought combat training with him was traumatising," Kitty said.

Scott couldn't say for sure, but her face was about the same shade as her sweater. Iceman looked like he was melting.

"He was very...thorough," Scott managed.

"I was surprised by how much he knew about anatomy," Jean said, with a good attempt at her usual cheerful aplomb.

Evan made a face. "Well, he would."

Nobody could argue with that.

 

Unsurprisingly, it was a while before Scott was able to talk to Rogue. For someone so quiet, it was pretty easy to tell when she was sulking. She was sitting out on the patio even though it was a little too cool to be comfortable, especially if you were unwilling to wear anything so frumpy as a sweatshirt.

Scott had run back from track practice since the far point on their last circuit had only been a couple miles from the Institute. He was starving and exhausted as well as in desperate need of a shower, but after a brief fight with his conscience, he veered over to where Rogue was curled up on an Adirondack chair reading. Oh, god, he still had to finish that book for AP English; _Wuthering Heights_ was _unbearable_. He was kind of pulling for someone to throw themselves off a cliff. It might end up being him.

"Rogue. Hey."

"Oh. Hey, Scott." Rogue let the book fall closed.

Scott scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and shit, he had to talk now. "So, I wanted to talk with you."

Rogue offered him a half-felt smile and looked down at the brooding Victorian hero on the cover of her book. "Yeah. I guess I've been avoiding you."

"Yeah." The silence stretched between them as the wind cooled the sweat on Scott's skin. "I-I'm sorry; I never meant to hurt—"

"I know," Rogue said softly. "When I tapped into Jean's power, when I linked with her mind, I saw what you are to each other. She's your sister. The way you love each other—"

"Hey, we're getting pretty fond of you, too."

"Yeah, well. Kurt's not so bad, I guess."

Scott guessed wryly that his dating pretty much anyone other than Jean was preferable as far as Rogue was concerned, but he somehow had enough sense not to say it out loud. "Um, yeah. I, um, like him." His flush of exertion, which had started to fade, returned with a vengeance.

Rogue actually laughed at him, which he guessed was an improvement. "Chill out, Scott. I'm not going to make you talk about your _feelings_. You men are such babies."

 

"All right. Now that we all know where everything is, let's move on to what to do with it. Masturbation." Several people choked. "Do you good. It relieves tension, plus you get to figure out your own body without complicating things by adding in someone else. This is especially important given the vagaries of mutant physiology. Also, you won't catch anything and no one gets knocked up."

"Oh my god," Scott absolutely did not whimper, going rigid in his seat. Kurt was sitting in front of him, and he could feel his tail wrapping around his calf for reassurance. Or to keep him from running away and leaving Kurt behind. Or maybe Kurt was about to 'port out and take Scott with him. Scott hoped that was it; what an amazing boyfriend.

 

There wasn't really a question of staying in the closet at school once it was general knowledge at the Institute. The X-Men, Scott had ruefully concluded, could barely keep one secret at a time. He wasn't planning on making a general announcement; but he found, a little to his own surprise, that he wasn't really interested in concealing their relationship. Jean was right: having to hide their powers rankled enough. If he and Kurt wanted to make out in the hallway (Scott couldn't actually imagine making out with _anyone_ in the hallway; he would spontaneously combust in a way that had nothing to do with his eyeballs), they were damn well going to.

In practice, it took a while for everyone to catch on. Their fellow mutants were surprisingly discreet—or, more likely, mostly gossiped with each other—and Scott was, much to Kurt's amusement, far too shy to attempt any significant PDA.

Actually, Kurt was surprisingly self-conscious. Scott considered mentioning it, but decided that if Kurt was actually exercising some discretion for once he didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"—won't even let us do our homework while we're watching the match. Hey, Scott. Can I borrow your Calc notes?" Taryn asked, setting her tray down next to Jean's as they joined Scott and Kurt at their otherwise empty table.

"Uh, sure," Scott told her, suddenly very conscious of the fact that he was sitting a little too close to Kurt with no one else on this side of the table. Kurt's thigh was warm against his, and Scott had to suppress an impulse to take his hand. Then he wondered if he should have done it after all, and then he was just confused.

Taryn was watching them with alert eyes. She was beautiful, athletic, and far too intelligent for Scott's comfort, explaining her position among Jean's friends. He was pretty sure her interest in him stemmed from his being a bit of a mystery, which had been kind of uncomfortable _before_ this.

Kurt took in Taryn's scrutiny and shifted even closer, staring back. Scott hid gratefully behind his shades.

"So, what did you two do to get all your friends at the Institute stuck in Sex Ed lectures?" Taryn asked. "Everyone's blaming you; apparently it's even more traumatic than Mrs Shaker."

Mrs Shaker was the grandmotherly sixty-four-year-old woman whose job it was to teach Health and Home Economics. To be fair, that was _also_ a fairly traumatic experience, and not just for the people who had to eat Kitty's muffins; but Scott doubted that was what was making Kurt's eyes widen in panic. Scott shot an alarmed look at Jean, who made a frustrated, _well, you said you didn't want to keep it a secret_ , gesture. Taryn was eyeing Scott in particular very speculatively.

Scott braced himself. "It's not that big a deal," he said, mouth going dry. "We just started dating."

"But Jean's been dating— _ohh_ ," Taryn started, confused, and then broke off in dawning comprehension. She boggled at them with her fork halfway to her mouth.

 

"That brings us to oral sex," Logan announced. "If you've been doing your foreplay right and hitting the erogenous zones, your partner should be pretty aroused by now. But if you really want to get a woman wet, your best bet is your mouth," he continued with the remorseless bluntness they all should have known would be the same in Sex Ed as it was in combat drills. Kurt was just glad that they didn't have sex drills. Having Wolverine growling profanity-laden critiques of his performance in bed would probably kill him.

He had to admit that Logan was a very practical instructor, though. His directions were very—explicit, and he didn't mince words. The tests, on the other hand, had clearly been made up by Doctor McCoy. Rumour had it that Logan had agreed to give the lectures as long as someone else took care of the paperwork. Rumour also had it that the rest of the adults had taken to watching these classes from the Professor's study over a closed feed.

"—main challenge with a woman is finding everything, which I can tell you is a lot different in the dark with a live person than it is on a diagram. Pay close attention to what gets a good response. If you get stumped, I've always found the words _show me_ work pretty well.

"Men, now, what you're going to want to watch out for is that you don't get over-ambitious. Stick with where you're comfortable: you can do a lot with just the head and foreskin, if he's got one. Don't be afraid to use your hands. And guys, try not to be bucking all over the place. No one's having fun when they're choking." Logan checked himself with a disturbingly reflective frown. "Well, no, that's a whole different lesson. But it's definitely not the sort of thing you want to start without meaning to. If you're having trouble with it, try licking _around_ the erection instead of trying to put the whole thing in your mouth."

Kurt left that lesson in a distressing state of arousal made all the more harrowing by the knowledge that Logan could no doubt smell it on him. He kept flicking glances at Scott, because when he'd— But even though Sex Ed with Logan was as terrifyingly unsexy as promised, Kurt still couldn't help remembering.

Scott was looking thoroughly flushed himself. Kurt wondered if they had time before they were due in the Danger Room to slip up to one of their rooms, especially in light of the fact that neither of them had so far lasted long at all.

"That was..." Kurt trailed off, English failing him.

"Um. We should—we should maybe talk about it." Scott flushed. "When—later. I really want to talk."

His hand found Kurt's and they gripped each other tightly in lieu of making out in the hallway. "Soon," Kurt suggested, tugging him closer.

Scott's stomach chose that moment to growl loudly. Kurt laughed; Scott huffed a little, defensively.

"I _really_ ought to eat something before our session," he said reluctantly.

Kurt was instantly diverted. "Gott, yes, I'm starving."

The adults had been true to their word about not trying to keep them away from each other. After Logan's first lecture, he'd made a point of shoving lubricant and a box of condoms at them with an ominous growl to _keep in mind who you're living with; you think these punks will ever let you forget it if you give yourselves a sex injury?_

Instead, they were being kept very, very busy. Kurt barely had time to do his homework, and Scott was even more overworked, loaded down with AP classes and track practice on top of everything else. They hadn't had nearly as much time together as Kurt would have liked.

Talking, when they finally got a moment alone that night, predictably turned into making out. Kurt still felt like he was starving, but they were basically yawning into each other's mouths and enough was enough.

"Gute Nacht," Kurt murmured reluctantly, still standing close to Scott in the door to his room.

"Good night," Scott said, bending for one last kiss.

Kurt held on, deepening it until their jaws dropped open and their eyes drooped shut. The two metres to his own door seemed like a million kilometres.

The next day, sitting at the same table in the mansion's library was the closest they'd managed to get since breakfast. Mulishly, Kurt had dropped his books next to Scott's even though it would have made more sense to settle across from him. Their notes kept getting mixed up, which led to Scott lecturing him about the way he doodled all over his instead of writing down what the teachers said. They knocked elbows, and Kurt kept getting distracted by the way Scott's fringe fell over his forehead.

Scott threw down his pencil in exasperation. "Can't you just—" He made a noise of frustration, seized Kurt's face in his hands, and kissed him.

Kurt moaned, frantically grateful. Scott was making hungry noises into his mouth, his long fingers winding into Kurt's hair.

They were lost to the world for several minutes before one of them thought to check they they were alone. Not that the fact that no one had interrupted them wasn't a big clue. The library was empty.

"Kurt," Scott panted hotly.

"Yes," Kurt agreed, seizing fistfuls of Scott's jumper and 'porting them directly onto his bed.

They landed with Scott on top, making it easier for Kurt to start taking his clothes off. It had been _days_.

Scott's fingers riffling through his fur sent a shiver of arousal through his entire body. He seemed to know instinctively how to touch Kurt to stimulate every follicle and nerve ending. His fur was even quicker to stand upright than his dick, his skin drawing tight as Scott scritched in circles under his shirt.

"That feels so good..." he moaned into the side of Scott's neck.

"I love the way you feel," Scott said, kissing him.

Kurt squeezed his ass, pressing them together. Their cocks ground together through their pants.

"Please," Scott said. He mouthed down Kurt's neck. Finding his access blocked, he pulled off Kurt's somewhat rumpled jumper and stroked his hands restlessly over the thick fur of his torso. "Please, Kurt. I want to try—"

Kurt swallowed a high, strangling sound when he realised what Scott wanted. He shoved his hand down into his pants and grabbed his cock, hard.

Scott seemed momentarily nonplussed, but then he saw that Kurt's hand wasn't moving. He sucked his breath in through his teeth and carefully finished opening Kurt's flies.

Kurt fairly whimpered as Scott stripped down his pants and boxers, leaning torturously far away to deal with his shoes and socks. Naked under Scott's gaze, he flushed and tried not to come.

Scott glanced up at him, then bent between his thighs, all broad shoulders and wiry muscle and a rare hesitance that made something twist in Kurt's heart. He reached down to brush the hair back from Scott's forehead, gentle, encouraging. He held his breath.

Scott's ghosted against his cock before his lips made contact. A tiny moan escaped Kurt's throat and he strangled his erection to stop himself from going off the way Scott had when their positions had been reversed.

Scott's mouth felt like nothing ever had, like nothing he had ever imagined. Kurt gasped explosively and only then realised that he hadn't been breathing in the meantime. His fingers were wound tight in Scott's hair, and he made a conscious effort to ease his grip.

And the sight, the sight of it was incendiary: Scott's lips sliding up and down his shaft, so hard it looked almost black, as Kurt held it for him. His cheeks hollowed, and Kurt felt his tongue move experimentally.

Kurt's tail thrashed on the sheets with all the desperation he was trying to suppress. Keeping still was really, really hard. It felt so good, and he absolutely didn't want to scare Scott away. In fact, if he could just stay there forever, making those sounds—

Scott dared to take him a little deeper; his lips brushed Kurt's hand wrapped around the base of his cock, and it was abruptly more than he could stand. His grip loosened enough to let his cock slide through it, chasing the bliss of Scott's mouth.

Scott gagged a little, unable to back off fast enough; but it was already over. A half-choked, "Scott!" was all he managed to get out before he came.

Scott tried to swallow at first, but soon he pulled back, coughing. When he recovered, he caught Kurt's eye.

He looked—debauched. His hair was in disarray, his lips parted and slick and pinker than usual, and Kurt could see flecks of come, _his come_ , on his face.

Scott licked his lips, and Kurt's dick twitched. It was still hard, god, it wasn't going soft at all. Scott looked up at him, his expression somewhere between uncertain and smug.

"It's been a _really long_ week, okay?" Kurt whined defensively.

Scott nuzzled him, huffing a ticklish little sigh. "Tell me about it."

Kurt made a small sound in his throat, carding his fingers through Scott's hair, enjoying the freedom to touch. Scott started mouthing at him again, hand smoothing up and down from Kurt's stomach to his thigh, making his fingers clench, his breath catch. The wet slide of his mouth was as wonderful as it had been the first time.

Less frantic now, Kurt could let himself enjoy it, pleasure building on top of pleasure. He could feel Scott's tongue working against him, the ridged surface of the roof of his mouth as he pushed down further before pulling back to suck in air.

Scott's cheeks hollowed again as he bobbed, suction and shivering heat. Kurt cupped the curve of his skull, the only part of him that he could reach, palming his cheek, careful not to dislodge his sunglasses.

"Scott, Scott, I need to—" Kurt needed put his mouth on Scott's and touch him until he made him come.

Surging up, Scott covered him like a gawky, sweaty electric blanket, pressing him down into the bed. Kurt seized his face in both hands and kissed him deeply. Scott moaned as Kurt chased the taste of himself around his mouth. Their cocks rubbed together slickly, because Kurt was still _wet_ from Scott's _mouth_. It felt incredible.

Kurt got a hand around them both so he could jerk them together. Scott grabbed him back, holding on so he could thrust into Kurt's tight grip.

They stumbled into something that was less a rhythm than a driven urgency crawling under their skin, moving them _together_. Scott was _begging_ him, so turned on by what he'd been doing that he was clumsy and desperate with it now.

"Scott, yes, Scott," Kurt babbled, wanting him, wanting to give him everything.

Scott clutched at him convulsively when he came at last, beyond words. Indescribable. Kurt couldn't keep it together after that and held on like it was the only thing keeping them both from shaking apart.

 

Taryn was reasonably discreet, but she apparently felt it necessary to explain to her friends why not asking Scott to the dance didn't mean she was punking out, and it had spread from there. The buzz of gossip followed them wherever they went, the whispers and sidelong glances even worse than what Scott remembered from being the new kid in school.

Some people were okay about it; but a few of Scott's friends got weird, which was disheartening when you took it as an indicator of how they'd hypothetically take other thing. The school's GSA happily offered to take up more of his non-existent free time.

And, of course, some people were jerks.

"Hey, so, Sadie Hawkins Dance next week: which of you is the girl?" Duncan asked him in the hallway between classes.

Beside him, Kurt froze. There was a roaring in Scott's ears, a sudden surge of adrenaline and rage making his heart pound, and he had to make himself take a breath before he blasted his shades through the back of his locker and out the wall on the other side.

Very carefully, Scott let go of his AP English stuff and closed his locker door. The hall clock was loud in the little bubble of silence that had formed around them, like this was entertainment.

Duncan cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms. Scott ground his teeth.

"Oh, we're going to the dance all right. I guess we'll see you there. I mean," Scott added acidly, "we all know who the girl is in _your_ relationship. Or didn't _you_ buy _Jean_ tickets?"

"That's it, Summers," Duncan growled and went for Scott's throat.

 _Finally._ Scott braced himself, already imagining how satisfying it was going to be to slam Duncan into the ground and punch his face in.

"Matthews!" Ms Vaughn barked, doing an impressive job of digging in her heels and stopping him bodily for an English teacher.

"Don't you all have somewhere else to be?" She raked a glance over the only slightly disappointed crowd, portions of which were already prudently skulking away, then fixed it on Scott and Duncan. "You two need to find some other way of working out your problems."

"Seriously," Jean snapped. "Duncan, I cannot _believe_ you! And you!" She rounded on Scott, whose jaw snapped shut on what he'd been about to say. "Don't you say anything either."

Ms Vaughn cleared her throat. "Ah. Jean..."

"Sorry, Ms V," she said, not sounding sorry at all.

Ms Vaughn gave them all another look. "Next time, it's detention," she warned.

They both mumbled something affirmative. Duncan resettled his varsity jacket and rolled off down the hallway toward his next class, not meeting Jean's eyes. She went in the opposite direction.

Ms Vaughn waited until Duncan was gone to prevent them from starting right back up again. She looked like she was thinking about saying something, then like she'd thought better of it. "I expect you to be on time for class," she told him before following Jean.

That left Scott and Kurt, who had been uncharacteristically silent through the whole encounter. Scott opened his locker again and looked over at him. "What an asshole," he said. "Can you believe that?"

Kurt had a pinched, unhappy expression on his face. Scott felt a renewed urge to slug Duncan Matthews.

"Hey, I'm going to be late for class."

"Oh. Sure."

Kurt sounded odd, too, but Scott would have to catch up with him later.

 

"And now, the day you've all been waiting for." Logan raked the assembled students with a flinty glare. "Penetrative intercourse."

There had been bets since shortly after the first session on who would be the first to faint and/or lose their lunch (it had been Amara, during the lecture on STDs, although Jamie had been the favourite). It was Jamie who fell out of his chair now, though, spawning a half-dozen copies and earning Logan's flat, unamused attention for the duration of time it took for him to pull himself together again.

Kurt did a pretty terrible job at trying to hide his snickers in a cough. Scott essayed a tentative smile in his direction, but the humour slid off his face as soon as he caught Scott's eye. What the hell?

It had been like this since yesterday. Scott couldn't steal a minute with Kurt; and when he did see him, he looked like something was bothering him.

Despite a general squeamishness brought on by Logan's delivery, everyone paid attention in Mutant Sex Ed. The tests Doctor McCoy cooked up for them were nothing like a walk; and, well, teenagers were generally interested in anything to do with sex. After the first lesson, Rogue had taken up a position slumped in the back and declined to take part in any of the discussions either during or after class. Kitty and Kurt sat next to each other, on either side of the dividing line between the girls and the boys, who had tacitly split the room between them.

Some of the younger students took turns daring each other to sit up front; Scott usually tried to sit near Kurt for a little moral support, but Kurt seemed to actually be kind of ignoring him today. So instead of translating Logan's lecture into something he could write down without cringing, Scott kept sneaking glances at at Kurt, trying to figure out what was wrong.

That night, when he really should have been going to bed, he knocked on Kurt's door. There was a long pause, but Scott wasn't going to be able to sleep until he found out what the problem was.

The door opened, finally, and Kurt poked his head out and squinted narrowly at Scott. He looked kind of pissed, actually. Scott was taken aback.

"Can I come in?" he asked, suddenly uncertain and trying to hide it.

Kurt eyed him a little longer. "I suppose."

Scott pushed his way awkwardly in. Kurt was dressed for bed, too, in plaid flannel pyjama pants and a worn old tee advertising the circus where he'd grown up.

He returned Scott's kiss but pulled away before he could deepen it. Scott frowned.

"What is it?" Kurt asked, hopping up onto his desk and crouching there. "We have an early session with Logan tomorrow."

"That's what I wanted to ask you," Scott said. "You've been acting kind of weird."

"It's nothing."

Well, that clearly wasn't true. "You're not upset about what Duncan said yesterday, are you?"

"I've been called worse." Kurt's tail twitched restlessly back and forth.

Scott really, really hated that that was true. "We knew what it would be like when we started dating."

"We haven't even been on a date yet," Kurt reminded him.

"That's what tomorrow night is supposed to be. You still want to go, don't you?" Scott asked, starting to feel a little panicked. He shouldn't have said that; what if Kurt said no? He still felt like—like they were missing a step, out of sync for the first time since they'd kissed here during the storm.

"Of course I do."

Scott felt his shoulders sag in relief. "Good. I'd hate to let that asshole Duncan ruin everything."

Kurt's expression, which had started to soften, became closed again. Maybe Scott shouldn't have mentioned Duncan.

"Yeah. That would suck."

Scott kissed him goodnight, but Kurt's lips felt somehow reluctant against his. He left feeling like they hadn't really resolved anything, even though it had sounded like they had.

Sleep was late in coming and unrestful. Fatigue and preoccupation combined to earn Scott a number of bruises in their morning training. And Kurt was still avoiding him.

 

Scott had spent maybe a little too much time planning this date, but he wanted it to be perfect, especially now. They had reservations at one of the date restaurants in town; Scott had wanted the fanciest restaurant in town, but Jean had talked him out of it. Now he wasn't so sure he should have let her.

"You look great," Scott told Kurt when he came down the stairs at last.

He yanked his hands out of his pockets self-consciously, having stuffed them there to stop himself from running them through his carefully-combed hair in nervous agitation. Kurt really did look nice. Scott couldn't help reaching out and catching up his hand, even though they had an audience.

Kurt hesitated before returning his grip. Scott grinned, and he smiled back with something approaching his usual enthusiasm.

"You, too. Are we ready to go?"

"You want a jacket?"

"Nah, you Americans are too delicate. C'mon, let's..."

Kurt 'ported them out to the garage, away from the amused attention of their fellow mutants, including Evan making kissy faces at them. He popped over to the other side of the Cobra before Scott could get the door for him, leaving Scott to take the more conventional route.

Being a Friday night, the restaurant was crowded. Any number of familiar faces turned to follow them as the waiter led them to their table. Scott's hand came to rest possessively just above Kurt's hidden tail; his back was rigid with tension. He kept his chin up, though, and so did Scott.

They sat, staring down at their menus. Scott had expected to be nervous. He'd been nervous all week. But he'd thought it would be the tingling nervousness of anticipation. He'd wanted to make Kurt smile through his own nerves, looking forward to that connexion. Kurt was stiff and subdued, which was so unlike him Scott didn't even know how to respond.

He was being unexpectedly self-conscious about their entire relationship. Scott had wanted their first date to be special. He hadn't wanted to hide, and he didn't want Kurt to think he was uncomfortable being seen together—but maybe Kurt wasn't comfortable being seen? It was hard to be different: Scott knew that, too. Was this too high-key?

"Are you feeling okay?" Scott asked after the waiter had taken their drink orders. Maybe Kurt was sick?

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You've been acting weird since Wednesday. That shit Duncan said got to you, didn't it? Dammit, I'm going to find him and—"

"Will you shut up about Duncan?" Kurt snapped. 

"Well, I don't know what else could be bothering you," Scott shot back.

"Wow. You really have no idea."

Scott threw his hands in the air. "Not if you won't _tell_ me."

"Fine. If you really can't figure it out for yourself, I'll spell it out for you. It's you."

" _Me?_ " Scott repeated incredulously.

"You," Kurt said. "I want our relationship to be about _us_ , not about proving something or getting back at Duncan. So I guess you'd better decide what's actually important to you."

And with that, Kurt disappeared in a puff of sulpher. Scott sat staring incredulously at the dissipating puff of smoke. Belatedly, he glanced around to check no one had seen anything. 

The waiter arrived with their drinks and Scott handed him a five as he pushed past him, fighting not to hunch his shoulders under the judging stares of the other couples as he made the walk of shame back to the door. He slammed the Cobra into gear and left skidmarks pulling out onto the road, the top down and the dusk wind cooling his face.

 

Kurt 'ported back to his room. He landed facedown on his bed, not bothering to turn his head so he could breath. Breathing was overrated. It didn't have anything on the potential for putting an end to all his miseries.

Kurt hadn't quite managed to smother when someone opened his door without bothering to knock. "Raus!"

Whoever it was ignored him. He felt the mattress dip as they came and sat on the bed.

A feminine sigh. "Boys."

Kurt's head came up, and he blinked at her through the shadows. "Jean?" His eyes narrowed. "Did Scott send you?"

Jean rolled her eyes. "Scott's sulking. He told me to go and bother someone else."

Kurt sat up, hugging his pillow to his stomach. "Scott's a jerk."

"Scott's an idiot. But then, he's a boy."

Jean failed to wilt under Kurt's glare, but for the first time he noticed that she was dressed in yoga pants and an old tee-shirt, not for a date of her own. Shouldn't she be out with Duncan? Kurt hadn't heard that they'd broken up, but he'd been wound up in his own problems and not talking to Scott, who certainly would have known. 

"Look, I know Scott better than anyone. He's a great guy, but he doesn't know what he's saying half the time," Jean tried.

"Yeah, that's kind of the problem," Kurt said bitterly.

Jean's face softened in empathy. "He really does like you, you know. If you wanted to give him another chance. He's just—terrible at expressing himself when it come to feelings, or anything that isn't a battle plan, really."

That won a snort from Kurt despite himself. He hugged the pillow more tightly to his chest. 

"Hey, he's my best friend. I had to give it a try." A wry half-smile; it was times like this when you realised that Jean could actually be nice on top of being an obnoxiously perfect perfectionist. "Anyway, if you want to find him, he's up at the old barn on the hill."

 

Out behind the old barn on the hill was one of Scott and Jean's places. Jean had moved into the mansion at the beginning of her freshman year, two years before any of the rest of them; but orphan Scott had lived there for years already, and Jean had been coming up on weekends for nearly as long.

The abandoned barn was just outside the Institute's grounds. It stood at the crest of a low hill, surrounded by overgrown fields, at the end of an overgrown road. 

To get there from the Institute, you had to walk through a thick grove of trees and across a couple acres of fallow ground. But by unspoken agreement, no one went out there except Scott and Jean. 

Kurt 'ported out to the trees first, perching in the branches and peering out through the night gloom towards the dilapidated structure before deciding to go on. Wind rustled the leaves around him and blew wispy clouds in front of the waning moon.

Scott was sitting on the split rail fence that divided the two properties. He'd crossed his arms on the top rail and was resting his head on them. It looked like he was doing what Doctor McCoy referred to as navel-gazing.

He didn't even look up when Kurt 'ported onto one of the fenceposts. There was a dejected slump to his shoulders Kurt wasn't used to seeing. He felt his tail twitch uncomfortably.

"I never asked you to the dance," Scott told the rotting fence. "That's what it is, isn't it?" he went on hollowly. "I just threw it at Duncan like it was a brick. I wouldn't want to have anything to do with me either."

"You were a bit of an arse," Kurt agreed. 

Scott grunted, for once in his life not arguing. Kurt would have thought that would be more satisfying.

"Well?" Kurt asked after a long, stewing pause. 

"Well what?" Scott replied miserably. "You broke up with me. I get it."

"What, you're not even going to try _I'm sorry_ first?"

Scott's head whipped up so quickly he was in danger of dislodging his glasses. Dark as it was, Kurt had no trouble seeing the expression of awful, naked hope on Scott's face. 

"Really?"

"Scott..."

"I'm sorry," Scott blurted, starting to look panicked. "Really, really sorry. I wanted everything to be special, and instead I ruined it." 

Kurt sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Yeah, well, you did have help."

A scowl rolled over Scott's face. "I can't believe that jerk—" He broke off guiltily. "But never mind. He's not important."

"Attaboy."

That won him a flash of irritation, but it disappeared when he sprang from the fencepost to the ground in front of Scott. He looked up at Kurt, hugging the fence rail like he was afraid to try and touch him. Sort of like a kicked puppy. 

Kurt put a hand on his arm. Instantly, Scott seized it, gripping hard. They stared at each other, not knowing what to say next. 

"I'm sorry," Scott said again.

"Wait while I grab my phone; I need a recording of that."

A shy smile crept across Scott's face. "Jerk."

"Well, that didn't last long." But Kurt felt himself smiling, too. 

Scott leaned in and kissed him softly, giving him plenty of time to duck. Kurt kissed him back, shifting closer by degrees until his legs bumped into the bottom rail. 

Exhaling a long, shaky breath, Scott wrapped him in his arms and just held him. Kurt, unstrung, leaned into the embrace.

Eventually, as the wind picked up again, an intermittent drizzle started falling from the patchy clouds. Fat drops hit Kurt, mostly wicked away by his fur, but some managed to seep through.

"You think we can beat this storm home?" Scott murmured in his ear.

Kurt smiled, remembering. "Ja, I think I can find us someplace dry to 'port to."

 

Kurt had never turned on the lights in his room, but they landed directly on the bed this time. It still made Scott jump, and he sighed into Kurt's hair as Kurt snickered at him.

They touched each other in the dark, not slow but not frantic. Everything else seemed to fall away, and together they stripped off the layers separating them until there was nothing in the way. 

The simple feeling of Kurt's body against his was still enough to make his heartbeat thunder in his ears. Soft fur over wiry muscle, always in motion, always pulling him in closer.

Scott had almost lost this. He couldn't believe how he'd taken Kurt for granted when this was—he was— Scott didn't even have the words for it, but he knew he wanted to protect Kurt, not hurt him; give him pleasure instead of pain. 

Kurt liked him, even though he was an awkward stick-in-the-mud. Even more incredibly, he still wanted to be with Scott even though Scott was as emotionally sensitive as a brick. 

Scott admired Kurt because he was smart, funny, and outgoing. He could be frustrating and, okay, annoying sometimes. But he had never been over-awed by Scott the way some of the new kids were. Being with him was like being with Jean; it made him feel less alone, not—not _more responsible_. Sometimes he even made Scott feel his age. 

Kurt made him feel a lot of things Jean didn't, though, which Scott hadn't quite understood until he'd found himself with Kurt's hands on his face, both of them still dripping with rain. It was—the way he moved, his casual touches, the hint of fangs in his infectious grin. Later, the set of his jaw when he offered to step aside for Jean, and the feeling of his tail winding itself sneakily around Scott's ankle for moral support.

Not to mention this, now, here. Kisses that made his head swim and their bodies moving together. Scott skimmed his hand down Kurt's back, then dragged it up more firmly, scraping with his short nails against the grain of Kurt's fur. 

Kurt threw his head back and moaned. Slipping down, Scott put his growing experience and painfully-acquired new sexual education, not to mention his mouth, to work on the dark nubs of Kurt's nipples. He was still learning things. There was so much still to discover, that he hadn't had the chance to touch or feel or do. Scott spread his palms wide, eager to take in as much as possible.

"Oh, that feels good." Kurt arched into his hands, into his mouth, cock dragging against his stomach. 

Scott turned his cheek against Kurt's chest and tried to catch his breath. It was like being rubbed all over with silk. 

Kurt carded a hand through his hair, then curled in to kiss his gasping mouth. He bore Scott over onto his back and climbed on top. 

"Tonight. I was going to ask you," Scott said. 

"Mm?" Kurt mumbled around a mouthful of Scott's neck.

"If—if you would—if you wanted to—"

Kurt's eyes gleamed at him in the dark. "This is a hell of a time to ask me to the dance."

Scott swallowed. "How about to fuck me?"

He could feel Kurt freeze with startlement. Scott looked up at him, too scared even to breathe.

" _Scott._ "

"Please." He dared to slide his hands up Kurt's waist.

Kurt swayed in closer at this subtle urging. "Y—I mean, this isn't another apology, is it?" 

"I've been thinking about it." Scott swallowed, but his mouth was dry. "Um. A lot. For—a lot."

Kurt's tail, which always seemed to have a mind of its own, was sliding and coiling around his leg, and that was a whole other thought. 

"I want to do this. I want you, Kurt," he managed with more confidence, at least until he got to, "If—I mean, if _you_ want to."

"Scott," Kurt repeated, voice hoarse with emotion, then plunged in for a wild kiss. 

"Is that a yes?" Scott panted when they broke for breath. 

"Yes, you numbskull." His hands trailed down Scott's body in new anticipation; it was Scott's turn to arch helplessly up. "Very yes."

He pulled Kurt down and kissed him, because _yes_. _Yes._ Kurt's fingers dug into his ass, and he thrust against Scott's stomach like he was already inside. Scott wished he could be, that he could just spread his legs and let Kurt in _right now_. He remembered what it was like, Kurt's cock in his mouth, the shape and girth of it, when he lost control and pushed in. 

Was that what fucking would be like? That almost panicky over-fullness and no pause for breath? Abruptly, he was hyperconscious of Kurt's hard cock; it was probably his imagination that it was burning like a brand on his skin. 

Scott reached for it, but Kurt twisted away, pinning his wrists to the bed. "Give me a minute." 

He was breathing heavily. In immobilising Scott, he'd ended up kneeling between his thighs, spreading them perforce and leaving Scott feeling exposed and impatient.

Kurt stroked his cock, which was such a double-standard; but his hands drifted away again too soon. Scott dug his fingers into the pillow under his head and his heels into the mattress while Kurt's touch skated over the tense muscles of his inner thighs, higher, closer, while Scott's breath came shallowly and he tried not to squirm. 

Ever so delicately, he brushed a thumb over the skin behind Scott's balls. Scott's toes curled, and he spread his legs wider.

"Wait," Kurt said. 

Scott's first reply only came out as a wordless sound of protest. "What?" he managed roughly on the second try.

"We need lube." Kurt was sounding a little edgy himself. "Where...?"

Scott stared blankly up at the dark recesses of the unlighted ceiling for a long moment, trying to cudgel his brain back into operation. "My room," he said at last. That was where he'd stashed the bag Logan had thrust on them, in hopes they'd need it tonight—but then, of course, all his plans had been turned on their head.

He'd barely finished speaking before Kurt 'ported. They landed with an unusual thump and clatter.

Releasing the pillow that had come with them, Scott automatically reached out to turn on his bedside lamp only to find it wasn't there. Kurt groaned and sagged, burying his face in Scott's stomach.

"Kurt?"

Kurt mumbled something indistinct, possibly in German, and then they 'ported again. This time, Scott's groping hand found the lamp. The lube and condoms were under it in the nightstand, but Scott spared a glance around to see what was going on. 

Jammed into the space between Scott bed and the wall was...Kurt's bed. Scott pressed a hand over his mouth. 

Kurt squinted up at him suspiciously. "You're laughing at me."

Scott swallowed, biting his lip, and shook his head. It was another moment before he dropped his hand, though. "Never."

Kurt vented an unconvinced grunt, but Scott urged him up and buried his smile in a kiss. Not letting go of Kurt, he leaned to the side and pulled out the nightstand drawer, finding the tube of lubricant by touch. 

Kurt pulled back slightly when Scott gave it to him, frowning down at his three-fingered hand in some misgiving. Scott kissed him again, wanting to erase the expression from his face. For a minute, it seemed to be working; but then Kurt sat back again. 

"What's wrong?" Scott asked. "Not...second thoughts?"

"Maybe you should do this part." Kurt held up one hand as if in demonstration. "My fingers, they're so big. And then there's my fur."

Scott hugged him in close again before that self-conscious hunch could gain much traction, catching his hand and bringing it to his lips. 

"I don't care. Kurt, all I can think about is you touching me."

"I don't want to hurt you," Kurt insisted.

"Not possible." Scott sank back into the pillows, tugging Kurt after him.

"Well..." Kurt let Scott settle him between his legs again, thighs closing possessively around his hips.

"Just go slow."

Kurt followed him the rest of the way down, licking into his mouth for a searching kiss. It gained momentum, until all the distractions fell away and they were hard again. 

Scott's need felt like something he could taste. It filled his mouth when Kurt sat back so he could see what he was doing. Scott reached for him, but his tail intercepted Scott's arm. The way it coiled around his wrist, snaking up his arm, was almost a caress. 

Kurt's finger, pressing at his entrance, was dripping with lube. He didn't push it in at first, only rubbing at the tight muscle, applying pressure, then slipping up behind his balls. Stroking and pressure; nothing else, until Scott thought there might not be anything else in the entire world. 

Eventually, the muscle started to give way, admitting the tip of Kurt's finger. It was true, Kurt's were thicker than Scott's, making for more of a stretch when the first one finally slid further in; but Scott wouldn't have given this up for anything. Slowly, carefully, Kurt slid the finger in and out. Scott watched his arm working, arousal already winding him up further even before grazing some spot inside; and Scott had learned the anatomy, but all he was aware of in the moment was a feeling jolting through his body like what he felt in his eyeballs when he punched through ten feet of concrete.

"Oh," Kurt breathed in something like awe. "What...what does it feel like?"

"Kurt," Scott moaned, half pleading and half protesting because _he'd stopped_. "Oh my god, _Kurt_." 

"More?" Kurt asked hesitantly.

" _Yes._ "

He was biting the meat of his fist to keep the entire Institute from hearing what they were doing before Kurt was satisfied. It seemed like about a million years, during which Scott thought he might actually die from arousal and anticipation. 

He was more than a little cross-eyed, but Kurt looked nervous. Disengaging his teeth from his hand, Scott kissed the section of Kurt's tail that was wrapped around his forearm. Kurt squeezed him back. 

When Kurt pulled all the way out, it left Scott clenching on nothing and feeling shockingly empty. He fumbled in the covers, finally coming up with the lube, but Scott took it out of his hand.

This time, Kurt didn't try to divert his reach, although his tail shifted and and tightened on his arm. Scott almost got side-tracked. He didn't think he could ever get tired of how Kurt's cock felt, hot and hard in his hand. Kurt thrust into his hand, pushing smoothly into the slick channel of his fist, and abruptly there was only one thought on Scott's mind. 

"Now," he said.

"Scott?"

"I need—please, Kurt, I need you, please."

Kurt's hand closed over Scott's, tail sliding up his arm again. He touched Scott's chest, his face, leaning in with his hair falling in a curtain around them.

"Shh," he soothed Scott. "It's all right. I'm right here."

Scott kissed him, and let go of his cock to grab his face with both hands and kiss him. He broke off with a cry when Kurt guided himself to Scott's entrance and started to push in.

He went slowly and carefully, but it was still a lot. Hurt wasn't the word, but neither was pleasure, exactly.

Kurt bit his lip in concentration as he slid inside. "Scott?"

"Keep going."

"You feel—"

Scott flexed without meaning to, and Kurt froze. A whimper strangled in his throat. 

"Sorry—"

"Nein, nein, das—it's good," Kurt assured him, still sounding a little breathy. "Are you—?"

Scott put an effort into relaxing, although the unnameable sensation spreading up his spine and through his limbs was starting to make him restless to move. He swallowed a couple of times. "Good, yeah."

Slowly, Kurt ground back into motion. Scott stroked his chest and sides, unable to keep still. Legs bent and spread to make room for Kurt, he dug his heels into the mattress for the leverage to push down onto Kurt's cock.

"Sehr gutt," Kurt repeated. 

"Kurt—"

"Scott—"

And suddenly that was it, Kurt was all the way inside. Both of them stopped then, breath coming heavy and fast, loud in the quiet room. 

"What now?" Kurt asked after a long moment.

"Move?"

Kurt huffed a breath that wasn't quite a laugh and resettled his hands on Scott's hips. He rocked his hips a little as an experiment, and that was—

"More," Scott told him. 

They started to move together, gaining confidence. Scott's toes curled, getting closer to...something. 

Kurt leaned forward, shifting to brace himself on the mattress, but Scott caught his hands instead, interlacing their fingers, and suddenly that was it. He bit off a shout and all but convulsed off the bed. Kurt was alarmed, but Scott didn't let go of his hands. 

"Wow," Kurt said.

Scott didn't say anything, but he rocked his hips and—yes, there it was again. _Good_ still wasn't the word—more like incredible, amazing, _fantastic_. Kurt pushed back against his support. Between them, they found an angle and a rhythm. Their hands gripped tight. 

Scott broke first, but not by much. Kurt was bent double over their hands through his last, helpless thrusts. 

Scott squirmed with the overload, but he was well and truly pinned. A second spasm seized him before Kurt went still.

"Help?" Kurt said weakly after a long moment. 

Creakily, Scott unlocked his elbows, allowing Kurt to sag down by degrees onto his chest. Scott slid his arms around him, holding him loosely in place as he breathed through the unexpected, fluttery feeling of Kurt going soft inside him. 

 

"Kurt," Scott whispered later, as they lay curled together under the covers, "will you go to the dance with me?"

A wide, goofy smile spread across Kurt's face, concealed by the darkness. "I don't know," he said. "I might get a better offer."

Scott, he felt, had deserved that.

Scott whuffed a perturbed snort and casually dumped him onto his back. "I think I can top it."

Kurt couldn't help it. He snickered. 

Scott prodded him with one finger. "Hey, so when were you planning on taking your bed back?"

Without warning, Kurt 'ported them across the room. As usual, Scott yelped and clutched at him. Kurt might be enjoying that a little too much.

"I don't know," he said. "It's handy to have one without a wet spot in the middle."


End file.
